Dreams Fade with the Dawn
by eck
Summary: **sequel to CORNER OF YOUR EYE** When Legolas returns after his wanderings, he discovers how painful some dreams can be...
1. Epilouge: Hope is Growing Dim

((Author's note: well here it is… The sequel to Corner of Your Eye…And I'm sorry it's short! I wanted to get the prologue up as soon as I could. The 1st chapter should follow in a few days so hang tight.  Thanx for all your support and wonderful reviews on "Corner of Your Eye" and I hope you will enjoy this one just as much.))

**This is the sequel to my other story "Corner of Your Eye". If you don't read that one first…you will have no idea what heck is going on.**

This is dedicated to my sister…cuz she asked for it.

Disclaimer: I own my Polish Lord of the Rings magazine!!!!! (thanx again, Woo!!!) A/U

**_Dreams Fade with the Dawn_**

**Prolouge****:**

Gondor was a land of proud people.  From the tall towers made of stone with silken banners to the dirty streets filled with an assortment of people and goods, it was the hubbub of all human activity; for that matter, all of Middle Earth.  Every man, woman, child, dwarf, hobbit, and elf seemed to pass through Minas Tirith's gates once a month.  Except…

"My Lord?"

Aragorn tore himself away from the clear window at the voice of the servant girl. "Yes?" he questioned softly.

"Your wife wishes to speak to you, my Lord.  She asked me to come and find you." The young girl curtsied again, keeping her head respectfully bowed before the king of men.

Standing to his feet, he waved a lazy hand in her direction. "Inform her that I shall meet her in the dining room. It is almost lunch time anyways," he said softly, glancing back out the window.

She nodded but did not leave.

"Anything else, Marèn?" the king asked with hint of tiredness.

The young girl blushed profusely at this, finding the stone floor very interesting. "I wish to enquire," she fumbled for a moment, "are you well, my Lord? You have been up here all day and you seem so tired…and…and…" she paused and her face flushed more crimson.  "I am sorry, Majesty.  I shall beg your leave now."  Marèn began to back out of the room.

Aragorn chuckled lightly. "It is fine, Marèn.  I thank you for your concern. I am well. Just worried about some of the things that a king must worry about."  He forced a smile down at her. "Now go tell Queen Arwen what I said."

The girl bowed hastily and flew from the room.

Watching her go, Aragorn sat back upon the plush window seat as his eyes were once again drawn towards the window and the bustling streets of his city.

"Three years," he murmured. "Some days, it seems like an age and other days it seems like yesterday.  Either way, it is hard to believe it has now been three years since he last stood by my side."

Aragorn closed his eyes and he could almost see the Elven warrior standing beside him with his sharp eyes peering into the distant reaches of Middle Earth.  But in his heart he still felt the void.

Not much had changed in the years since Legolas had left.  Aragorn still looked the same, his Numenorian blood serving him well.  His hair was still the dark thatch it had been in his younger, wilder days but now it had a tamed, clean-cut look to it.  His muscles were still strong and firm and his hands were still steady.

No, not much had changed at all.

Leaning his forehead against the window, Aragorn's eyes of their own will searched the streets once again for the blonde warrior.  He could not help it.  Every time his eyes caught sight a blonde elf, he would think it was Legolas until a closer examination proved differently.

When Arwen saw this, she would give him a sad smile and shake her head. She had given up hope that Legolas would ever return to Aragorn's side. For the first months, she would offer her husband comfort but as the months wore on, even Arwen's fathomless patience began to run low.

Aragorn could remember the bitter fight that had lasted for over a week at his continued assurance that Legolas would return.  When Arwen had thrown him out of the bedroom he had ran to Eowyn's side, despite the fact that she was married to Faramir.  She had comforted him through the night, even thought Aragorn could see that her eyes held no hope for Legolas's return.  Aragorn had hated it, he considered Legolas his best friend and he found himself repulsed by the fact that the woman that had supposedly "loved" his friend had given up so quickly.

That had been almost a year ago.  Aragorn still held the hope but it was fading fast.

Slowly, Aragorn turned to go to the dining room and meet Arwen.  

The dirty streets of the city bustled by unnoticing the King's departure. All ran smoothly as it had always done.  For no one seemed to notice the absence of Prince Legolas Greenleaf.

((Next chapter: Legolas returns…hopefully….lol…thanx for reading!))


	2. A Dream is Answered

_((Author's note:  well…here it is…the second part.  I hope you enjoy it.  Eowyn still hasn't come on the scene, but she will, soon…I promise!!! Thanx for all the reviews and I hope you all continue to enjoy my little tale))_

This is dedicated to that dude I saw at my track meet…it's not nice to go around giving people heart attacks cuz you look like Orlando Bloom…

_Disclaimer: _I own my really cool elvish dagger that I can now spin…

**Chapter One: A Dream is Answered**

"What troubles you, my king?" Arwen whispered softly in her lover's ear. "Tell me so we may share the burden that rests so heavily on your shoulders." 

Aragorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath of her sweet perfume.  "I am sorry, my love, but this is one burden I must bear alone for I fear you would not understand it."

They were alone in the garden, walking off the stress of another long day together.  The flowers were in full bloom and a few birds gave their melodic songs to the wind.  The sun was just preparing to set in the Eastern sky and purple decorated that horizon.

Arwen wrapped a pale arm around his waist.  "It is about Legolas, is it not?" she murmured sadly.

Making no response, Aragorn wrapped her in a hug.

"Why can you not let him go, Aragorn?" she questioned.  "It pains me to see you hoping when no hope remains."

Aragorn stiffened, staring at the dark green foliage of the trees.  "There is always hope," he repeated.

Leaning against his chest, Arwen tried assuage the king.  "I did not mean to offend you, only speak the truth. It has been three years, you need to let him go.  If he is not dead, he has probably left for the West with many of the other elves."

"He would not go without saying goodbye."

"Perhaps. But let us not speak of that now.  Are not these new flowers lovely? My father had them sent from Rivendell a week ago and I have been helping the gardeners tend them."

Absently, Aragorn nodded but his eyes were not focused on the flowers but at the expanse of blue sky that stretched over them in every direction.

"My Lord?"

They both turned from the flowers to face the Captain of Aragorn's palace guards. He was a large man, towering even over Aragorn; his black hair was pulled back in a low, unruly ponytail and his eyes were sharp and intelligent.

"Jarínu," Aragorn greeted, nodding slightly in acknowledgement to him and noting the worry that had been etched upon the Captain's strong features.

Jarínu bowed slightly to both of them. "My Leige? With your permission I would like to speak to you."

Aragorn smiled warmly at the nervous man. "You know I always have an open ear, Jarínu. Tell me what is on your mind and I shall listen."

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Jarínu shook his head.  "I meant, alone," he ducked his head.  "With all due respect to Queen Arwen, but this matter is of the utmost importance."

Arwen pulled away from Aragorn.  "I am not offended, Captain.  I understand that some matters are best not discussed in the presence of a woman. I beg your leave, Aragorn," she curtsied then turned to leave the garden. "Dinner is at seven. Faramir and Eowyn are joining us so please, for once, do not be late," she called quickly over her shoulder.

Aragorn nodded then turned to walk beside Jarínu.  "Tell me," he commanded but not harshly.

"We have had news from some our sources with in the city that an 'assassin' has entered the city."

"A what?" Aragorn asked pulling to a halt.

"An assassin," Jarínu repeated. "Now these reports are not confirmed but from what our sources said, he is credited with the death of a noble figure in the East. I do not mean to worry you unnecessarily  but I do want to inform you that everyone will be on heavy guard for the next few weeks."

Aragorn nodded slowly. "You believe he will try something?"

"I cannot say, but we wish to take no chances with your life or the life of your queen."

"Thank you," Aragorn rubbed his fingers through his air.  "Establish a detail of your best men to accompany the queen every time she leaves the palace. I do not want her wandering the streets alone."

"Yes, my Lord. Shall I create one for you as well?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I am a soldier, Jarínu.  I can take care of myself."

"With all due respect…"

"But I will not due any thing foolish, Jarínu. I would appreciate if you would supply me with one of your good men that would watch my back when I cannot," Aragorn forced a smile.  "Even I do not have eyes in the back of my head."

Jarínu smiled also. "It shall be done."  He bowed and turned to leave the garden.

"Oh, and more thing."

The captain turned. "Do not inform Arwen of this quite yet.  I shall do so when I feel the time is right." Aragorn stared off in the direction the queen had gone. "I fear she will not take it well. Especially since the birth of Eldarion is still so fresh in her mind."

"Of course, King Aragorn."  He nodded head and raised one fist in the customary salute of the Gondorians.  "Now hurry and prepare yourself for dinner, I do not imagine the queen would take it well if you were late," he said with a smirk.

Aragorn made a comical face at him but hurried towards his quarters in the castle anyway.

()()()()()

The lights were low in the Aragorn's study and the stars flickered outside the large glass window right behind the desk where Aragorn was bent over his paperwork, pen scratching softly across the parchment paper.

The only other sound in the room was the steady ticking of the clock and Aragorn's even breathing. His sword was resting beside the desk, within an arm's reach of the king should anything amiss occur.

There was slight rustle as the a wind swept by the window, throwing the tree branches around in a weird dance under the moonlight.

Aragorn looked up for a moment, glancing at the silver moon and then his eyes made a quick sweep around the room before returning to the parchment resting in front of him.

"You must be congratulated," he spoke suddenly in the silence of the room, his voice was steady and strong. "Very few possess the skill to slip pass my guards unnoticed." Aragorn still did not look up from his work.

A cloaked figure stepped silently out from the shadows by the bookshelf.  "Your guards are not even worthy to wear a sword around their waist," the figure said in a low voice.

Aragorn kept writing. "You have come here to kill me," he stated.

"Perhaps," the figure replied.  "That is what I am sure seems to be the most logical conclusion."

Finally looking up, Aragorn took in the tall figure standing mere inches from his desk. A large hood covered the figure's face and the cloak concealed all of the body.  "Things are not always as they appear," he said slowly. "If you had come here to kill me, I believe you would have already done it."

"Can you be sure? Perhaps I was just waiting for the right moment."  There was a quick flash of movement and a sword was drawn from the depths of cloak.  "Or perhaps I was waiting to see how long it would take you to sense my presence."

Aragorn stood to his feet, bringing Anduril with him.  "Perhaps," he agreed.  "But in doing so, you have made a fatal err.  Now I shall not go down without a fight."

Even though Aragorn could not see his face, he was sure the assassin had smiled.  "I did not expect you would."

Walking around the desk, Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at the figure.  "Why did you come here?" he asked calmly.

"My business is my own," he replied and lunged at Aragorn, sword held at ready.

Aragorn stepped to the side but was surprised to see that the assassin had not run past him as he had hoped but instead followed his movements.  He brought his word up just in time to block the downward swing of the sword and jump back a few feet.  "You are skilled," he acknowledged.

There was no reply as they commenced at each other with a flurry of quick blows.  The assassin had speed and agility on his side while Aragorn had the advantage of being heavier.

Aragorn narrowly ducked a blade aimed at his head and finished in a smooth roll to come up and swing at the assassin's middle.

The assassin flipped backwards and jumped on top of Aragorn's desk before lithely skipping to come down behind Aragorn.  "Are you getting to old for this?" he taunted, but Aragorn thought he could detect a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You do not fight like a mortal man," Aragorn said.  "Who are you?" He ducked another blow and spun into meet the coming sword with his own.  The king felt as if he fought this battle before, as if at one time he had known every move but now it was just vague memories.

The figure did not answer his question but somersaulted underneath Aragorn's blade to come up behind him.

Aragorn, however, was expecting this maneuver and was ready. He planted one foot and spun, flicking his sword upward at the same time.

There was a cry of pain as the assassin's sword flew across the room. But that would not stop him. The assassin jumped forward at Aragorn's legs but he miscalculated the speed of his opponent.

With a quick downward stroke, Aragorn cut into his side and blood spurted upwards.

Letting out a gasp of pain, the assassin collapsed at Aragorn's feet, clutching his profusely bleeding side.

Moving quickly, Aragorn had his sword up against the throat of the figure. He reached out with one hand and ripped the hood from the face.

Even in the dim lamplight, he could make out the shine of the blonde hair and the features crunched up in pain.

"Legolas?" he whispered.

((You know…Cliffhangers are fun…very fun in fact…))

Notes:

**Dark **Phoenix******: don't worry…it's not gonna be that sad in my opinion.  You'll just have to read and see, but I promise, there will at least be a glimmer of happiness at the end**

**Kirsten: it could be about Legolas and Eowyn's romance.  lol.  You'll just have to wait and see but I'm speculating that Eowyn still feels something for our silver prince…but that's just a speculation…**

**Miss Fizz: yup, I love my sister too.  and I have socks that say "I rock" on them. They're really cool.  lol…yup Eowyn gave up hope waaaay too fast.  Don't worry, there's gonna be tons of fights coming up…*evil grin***

**Happy Reviewer: well, you're not gonna have to wait anymore, cuz here it is!!**

**Tara**: **I'll make sure to tell my sister for you.  And I'm glad I made you happy cuz I love making people happy…just ask any of my friends…lol…**

**i**** reached level 12 for dungeon keeper: augh…I am waaay too absent minded…I changed it just to make you happy…lol…**

**Rideoffwithshadowfax****:  thank you…I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**Kayo: of course he will come back!!!! Your right Merry leaving Pipping would be just plain wrong on all counts!!!! Lol…I'm still waiting for that icicle, lol.  **

**Mouse: yup, a few years have gone by. Plenty of time for things to happen…like Eowyn and Faramir getting married and having kids…I should just stop there before I give too much away….**

**Brghost****: I'm sure I could've started out with Legolas coming back…but that wouldn't have been near as intense. When I write, I don't go for the "everything works out great" approach. I go for the "you fight for what you want" approach. I'm sorry you don't like the way this sequel is working out but you should at least be open minded about it, not everything in life works just they way you want it to, you know. And besides, whoever said it wasn't gonna be Eowyn/Leoglas?**


	3. One More Night to Dream

**((Author Notes: **here it is…thought I must admit that some of you might not be quite happy with it as I think a lot of you got the wrong impression from the last chapter… but here it is, I did my best and I hope you enjoy.  Legolas/Eowyn fights should be coming up in the next chapter so hang tight for a couple more days.  Thanx for all the great reviews!!!

**brghost****:  lol…now I will try and surprise you.  there's gonna be TONS of Legolas and Eowyn as that is mainly what this little story is centered on, but for some reason my muse wants to have a nice long building up to it. But Eowyn should make her appearance in the next chapter…hopefully…if my muse agrees that is….**

**Elfling****: of course your not annoying me!! lol….i love talking!  Don't hurt the air when your punching it…**

**Erhothwen****: Legolas as an assassin does make a very nice picture, does it not?  I personally enjoy it immensely…but perhaps….yah…nevermind…keep reading.  *grabs elvish dagger back* my preciousssss….**

**Kayo:  ugh…I wanna live in the snow….*sticks tongue out*…about Legolas' fighting style…I thought about that too…but this is what I figure: Legolas fought primarily with his long knives at least according to Tolkien and the movies. In fact I can't remember a time when he didn't. So, I figure he learned sword fighting in the three years he was gone…so therefore Aragorn wouldn't fully recognize the sole reason that he had never fought Legolas with a sword before…I hope that makes sense…**

**Dark Phoenix: um….depends on your definition of happy…I'm not normally in the business of writing happy stories as my sister will tell you…**

**Mouse: it was…lol…I like doozies.   Well, I hope you enjoy this part.**

**Tara**: **don't you love it when he makes an appearance? So grand and graceful and elegant and, and, and…*stops as her muse drags her off stage* Anywayz….**

**Lady Lenna: nothing REALLY bad will happen. At least not in the next chapter…actually, hmm…I may hafta take that back.**

**CassieMR****:  you better not take that dagger!!!! I know where you sleep…*evil laugh*  lol….next time don't hang over my shoulder when I'm TRYING to write this…just becuz I couldn't get any good ideas….**

**Justagirl****:  *nods wisely* o yes…perfectly logical..perfectly logical…exactly unlike my brain…**

**Arwyn****: becuz it is just sooooo much fun to torment the readers…lol….**

**Eiertae****:  *sniff* I'm an evil writer? *sniff* fine than…I won't write anymore…jk**

**Hawyn****: neither can i….i mean, what was she thinking?**

**MissFizz****:  I thought it was pretty good myself. Don't worry, Legolas won't be cast into any dugeons…yet….*BWAHAHAHAHAHA***

**Evenstar589: nope I wouldn't mind it at all~**

**Ola****:  it may not be a long time to an elf…but Aragorn and Eowyn are mortal…but yah, anywayz, you're right! No one should give ppl heart attacks because they look like O Bloom…especially right before your about to run the 800m race.  I don't think he noticed me…but my guy friend sure did and he pinched me really hard after about 2 minutes….i'm not polish. But my friend and I went over there together and he got me it as a peace offering of sorts. Thanx for pointing out the errors!**

**Lisseyelen aka Lady V:  wow…that's a long name..anywayz. Sorry about that, but my muse just had to, and I love cliffhangers…don't worry this chapter doesn't have one…at least…not really.**

**Dragon-of-the-north:  yah it is a pretty good idea..but just keep reading…**

_Dedicated to my beautiful elvish dagger…( I'm obsessed) and to my sister, in gratefulness that she did not cut my head off before I could post this.._

**__**

**_One More Night to Dream_**

Silence permeated the air for a moment as the two long-time friends locked eyes in the dim light of the room. Aragorn's sword hung limp and forgotten in his hand, his mouth forming in surprise.  A long moment passed.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Aragorn knelt beside the fallen elf. "Why are you here?"  He grabbed a blanket that was lying on a nearby chair and held it against the small slash on Legolas' side. "What were you…?"

"There is an assassin after you."  Legolas tried to push Aragorn's hands away and stand to his feet but did not resist when Aragorn held him back.

"My guards told me earlier," he paused a moment, "I assumed you were he, the assassin that is." A hint of doubt flickered across his face.  "You are not the assassin, correct?"

For the first time, Aragorn thought he saw a hint of a smile on the other's face.  "No, Aragorn. Do not fear. I have not come to harm you or your wife."

"Then why are you here? And how did you know that I had become king?"

Legolas sighed heavily.  "Why I am here is a story which has become too long and complicated for me to explain here and now.  But I learned of your crowning while I was wandering in the Eastern Lands. I am positive that all of Middle Earth knew of it as well."

Aragorn nodded slowly with a small chuckle and then asked the next burning question that was heavy on his mind.  "Why did you attack me, then? If you are not the assassin?"

Legolas ducked his head. "I had not planned to, Aragorn. But I arrived and I could not resist testing you skills after all these years. Must I say that the years have not caused you to loose any of your former prowess and, mayhap, gained a few more tricks a long the way."

Aragorn responded with a slight smile. "I could have very well killed you, my friend."

"You give yourself too much credit there.  I would have never let you slay me.  At worst, I would have revealed myself to you."  Legolas looked around the room. "Where is my sword?"

Looking around, Aragorn spotted laying a few feet away.  Crawling over, he picked it up and handed it back to Legolas.  "Are you staying in Gondor?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice. "You have been gone far too long and I wish that you would consider yourself my honored guest for as long as you are able to be here in…"

Legolas laughed.  "Have no fear.  I am staying her for awhile.  There is something very important I must do in this city before I even think of leaving again."  Pushing Aragorn's hands away, he stood to his feet and swayed slightly as the blood loss began to effect him.  "I am alright," he said sharply when Aragorn tried to reach for him again.

Aragorn drew back, hurt by the harsh tone.

Sighing, Legolas reached out a hand to touch Aragorn's shoulder.  "I am sorry, my friend. It has been a troubled three years of my life."  With nimble fingers, he undid the clasp of the cape and allowed it to fall onto the floor around his feet. "And now all I really wish to do is get some sleep in a soft, warm bed.  It seems like a dream after months of sleeping on the hard ground…" Legolas trailed off.  "What?"

Slowly, Aragorn reached one hand out to touch the shoulder.  "You are so thin."

There was a nervous laugh.  "Elves are always thin, Aragorn. You should know this quite well."

"I know this, Legolas, but you are…it looks like you have been starved for many days."  Aragorn squeezed the shoulder, wincing at how the bones poked through the skin.

A shadow crossed the blue eyes briefly. "As I said, it has been a troubled three years.  I am very grateful to be with my friends once more." He winked slyly at Aragorn. "I would be even more grateful if my friend would provide me with a place to sleep tonight."

Aragorn nodded. "Of course! What was I thinking? You must be exhausted."  He took another look at the thin body. "Would you like to eat first or do that in the morning?"

"My stomach can wait one more day."  And Aragorn thought he detected a hint of bitterness in his friend's musical voice.

"That will do, that will do," Aragorn agreed. "The hour is late or I am sure that Arwen would be up to greet you. But I think we best save that for the morning as well. Breakfast starts at 9:30 and Arwen gets worried if you are not there right on time. At least she does when I am not there on time.  She seems to not mind it if Jarínu is late but that is a story for another time."  Aragorn prattled on, telling about the coming and goings of Gondor since Legolas' departure, all the while trying to sneak covert glances at the hunched shoulders, and the slight limp of his friend.

They had just reached Legolas' room when the elf's quiet voice broke through Aragorn's chatter. "And what of the Lady Eowyn?"

Silence reigned in the dark hallway for a moment as the two old friends locked eyes.

Aragorn was the first to look down. "She is coming for breakfast in the morning.  You should be able to see her then and all your questions will be answered."  With that, Aragorn turned to go.

"Does she still love me?"  Legolas' almost sounded like a small child, needing reassurance.

Aragorn sighed.  "We had given up hope for you return, mellonamin. It was hard for her." He gave a weary smile. "Rest well." And then he vanished down the hallway towards his own quarters.

Legolas slipped into his room and rubbed his eyes.  Tomorrow.  That is what he had lived for these past three years when grief had threatened to overtake him.  The promise of tomorrow and the love of the Lady Eowyn.  And tomorrow, he would find both.

((I like reviews…))


	4. Welcome Home?

**PLEASE READ!!!!!!!!!!!  IMPORTANT!!!!! ((Author's note: **this really isn't a new chapter, more like an addition to the last one.  Some of the reviewers brought up a point that I knew I had to deal with.  It was a mistake on my part.  I have a habit of writing first and thinking later.  I had in my mind how I wanted Legolas and Eowyn to meet before I even started writing this story.  The idea for Legolas and Aragorn's meeting came later and I could not resist putting it in.  But the only way to also do the Legolas and Eowyn meeting was to have Aragorn not tell him…so yah… this should clear it up))

Dedicated to Arwyn and Nimrodel for they were the ones who demanded the necessity of this chapter.

**Welcome Home?******

Aragorn sank down on the floor as soon as he was out of sight of Legolas' room.  He lowered his head onto his knees and took a deep shuddering breath, trying unsuccessfully to calm his nerves.

He was back.  The words filled his brain blotting out every other thought.  He was back.

_And all you could do was talk about what was happening in Gondor.  Did you even give him a hug and welcome him home?_  Aragorn shook his bent head.  _And you call yourself a king…_

He should have been jumping for joy and telling his long lost friend how much he had missed him. What had stopped him?

Aragorn sat still and contemplated the question.  What had stopped him from feeling thrilled at his friend's return? What was this deep feeling of unease that was gnawing persistently at his heart?

Perhaps it was Legolas himself.   He had been different then the carefree elf that had left three years before. There was a new emotion in the bluish eyes that Aragorn could not place for the life of him. It was akin to fear, but Legolas was strong and he never feared anything.  That could not have been fear that Aragorn had seen, he would not believe it.

Aragorn lifted his head to look back down the hallway in the direction of Legolas' room. "Ah, mellonamin, what has happened to you? Whatever it was, I fear the worst is yet to come."

Eowyn. The lovely princess that Legolas had given his heart to.  What would Legolas do when he discovered what had transpired in the three years?

Aragorn admitted the reasons for keeping the truth about Eowyn and Faramir to himself was purely selfish.  He did not want to be the one to tell the elf of the atrocities committed in his absence. He did not want to be the one to make Legolas weep.

Shamefully, Aragorn remembered the time he himself had lain in Eowyn's bed after the elf's departure.

Faramir had been away on business and a fight with Arwen had driven him to seek comfort from the one his best friend had loved.

Resting against the smooth wall, Aragorn closed his eyes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow all would come into the light and he hope that the Valar would help them get through the storm that was sure to follow.

"My Lord?"

Aragorn was jarred from his thought by the quiet voice of one of the palace guards.  "Hmm?"

"Are you well, my Lord?"

Rising to his feet, Aragorn nodded. "I am fine.  Just getting ready for bed." He smiled lightly at the young guard.  "All is quiet in the palace? No intruders or strange noises?"

"No, my Lord, it has been quieter than tomb."

"Are you positive?"

"With all due respect, your Majesty, your guards are the best in Middle Earth. There is no way someone could sneak past them, be it an elf or a man.  Have no fear, the palace has been secure."

Aragorn nodded.  "I am sure they are all very dedicated." He smiled slightly.  "I think I will go to bed now."

"Yes, my Lord. Would you like me to escort you back to your room?"

"I think I will be fine." Aragorn turned to leave and then paused for a moment. "Oh, guard?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Do you mind informing the cook for me that we have an extra person tomorrow at breakfast?"

"Certainly. Will someone be arriving early?"

"He has already arrived. My friend Legolas apparently snuck past your guards and into my study an hour or so ago.  He will most likely be staying a few weeks so have the butler make a room ready."

The guard stared a moment before bowing and running off to do his duties.

Aragorn chuckled to himself and hurried down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with Arwen.  But then he quickly sobered as he thought of Legolas sleeping a few feet away.

For some reason, he found himself not looking forward to the next morning.

**(The real chapter should be coming in the next couple days or so….but I had to get this one written before I could go on. I hope you guys aren't too upset…*hopeful grin*)**


	5. Calm Before the Storm

**((Author's note: well, here's the next chapter.  This one is the _real chapter…yay!  Okay…enough of the author's note, cuz I know you all are sooo eager to read…**))**_**

Disclaimer:  I am not a man.  I am not dead. So guess what? I'm not Tolkien. Therefore I own nothing.

This is dedicated to Phillip Stoner...who almost made me cry.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                                                                                             **Calm Before the Storm**

The sun peeked through the curtains of Legolas' bedroom, its golden rays swept about the room, touching the soft materials and dark woods.  The sky began to gain its rich blue color as a new day began again.

Legolas opened his eyes, surprised at how long he had slept.  The sun was already a fair distance into the sky. He lay still for a moment, savoring the feel of the silky sheets and warm blankets that covered him. It had been long since he had slept upon anything so pleasant, so comfortable.  A sigh passed his lips and he resisted the urge to drift off once again.

Pushing himself from the pillow and into a sitting position, he stretched out his stiff muscles.  He glanced around the room, the night before he had only seen it in dull shapes and shadows.  His clothes and weapons were still lying in a crumpled heap where he had carelessly thrown them the night before as he had staggered towards the bed.

Silently, he slid out from beneath the warm covers and pulled his worn shirt over his head. Legolas turned so he could see his figure in the full-length mirror a few feet away.  

He wished that he had something more presentable to dine with the King of Men. Mournfully, he pushed his finger through one of the many holes in his shirt, and then further to touch his prominent ribs.  Legolas made a face at himself. He had always been slim, but this was just ridiculous.  His leggings were in worse condition, the thread-bare material hanging slack on his legs.

"Stop complaining," he reminded himself, his voice nothing but a mere whisper. "At least you made it here alive.  For at times, even that seemed like an unhopeful dream."

Turning away from the mirror, he picked up his weapons and prepared to strap them upon his back.  Then he paused. He was in safe territory. There would be no monsters to ward off this day.  He set his bow and arrows back on the chair whence they had lied and simply strapped a long dagger to his waist.

He glanced at the sun.  He had about an hour to make it down to the breakfast table.

A twinge of pain in his leg brought his gaze down to stare at he knew was the ragged mass of scars that ran from his knee to his foot, seeming to encompass all the flesh in a maze of burn marks and torn skin.

_The sounds of fire assaulted his ears and he wondered why he had not smelled the smoke.  Flames were leaping and dancing in the room around him and all he could see was orange and black as the fire devoured everything that he had called his own in the godforsaken country.  _

_Covering his eyes against the burning acid, he felt the burning pain shoot up his back as burning embers were thrown against it.  His breath came in raspy gasps as the smoke torched his sensitive throat and ate away at his lungs.  A fit of coughing seized him and he was forced to double over._

_Where was the exit? He still had time to get out.  He still had time…_

_There was a shaky rumble and then an instant explosion from deeper in the house. Yet, he was still knocked over at the force of the blast. Wood pieces rained down on him and one fell upon his legs, sufficiently trapping him where he lay. _

_The nearness of the fire and the heat emanating all around him panicked the young prince and he pushed desperately at the boards. But it was no use, they were securely in place._

_Then above him he heard the crack of boards and he felt the fear of death overcome him once again. Glancing upwards, he saw the ceiling begin to cut itself free of the iron nails that held it in place.  In a desperate attempt to save himself, he threw his arms over his head and waited._

_With a loud crash the jagged boards fell, sweeping him away in a haze of pain and agony until he knew no more._

Legolas gasped as the fire and pain faded, leaving him in a softly lit room with no fire in sight. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His wide, scared eyes blinked back at him, his mused hair added to wild, disheveled appearance.  He took a deep breath, fighting to calm his racing heart.

"You are safe here."  He nodded at himself solemnly in the mirror. "There is no fire to reach you here."

Turning from the mirror, he went to the wash basin and splashed the cool water on his sweaty face.  Running his fingers through his blonde hair, he patted the loose strands firmly in place.

Legolas snatched up his dark cloak from the floor and threw it over his shoulders, pulling the hood down over his face as to not be recognized by the casual observer.  It also hid the boniness of his frame well.

He straightened his weary shoulders and walked out the door of his room and into the open corridor.   There was still enough time to take a little walk on the palace grounds.

His feet carried him instinctively down the stairs and towards the center of the castle.  He had seen a small courtyard there as he had crept in the evening before.  

Ducking through a low doorway, he found himself in a lovely green area that was filled with trees, flowers, and gently running streams.  There was no roof here and one could look straight up into the blue sky.

He felt the fear and stress begin to evaporate off of him as he moved through the plants, allowing himself to be swept away in their innocent beauty.

Pausing by a light waterfall, he allowed his fingers to trail through the clear, splashing water, relishing the feel of the coolness against his fingertips.  Everything was so peaceful here.

He cocked his head slightly at the sound of a voice singing softly.  The song was one of the more popular elvish songs and the singer seemed to know it quiet well.  Following his ears, he crept into a small glen of flowers and grass.

She was sitting with her back to him and her long hair flowing in blonde, wavy tresses down her slim back.

Crouching in the underbrush, he watched as her body moved in almost imperceptible movements to the beat of the song.  The winds brushed pass her hair, giving it an unkept appearance.

The song finished on a soft note and Legolas felt himself drawn imperceptible forward. He knew who this singer was.

"Your voice is very beautiful, mi'lady," he said softly, as not to startle.

She turned and stared at him with her light blue eyes. "I thank you for your compliment, good sir."

"The song, did you write it yourself?"

Shaking her head, she shifted so she could face him fully. "Nay. It was written by the elves many years ago. The words were taught to me in the past by a dear friend who was an elf."

"It compliments your voice." Legolas felt his entire body tremble with the façade he was playing, with the eagerness to fall into the lady's arms. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"I am Lady Eowyn, sir."  She peered closely at him. "I seem to recognize your voice but from whence I cannot place it.  Though it seems at once I knew it quite well. What is your name?"

Legolas moved closer to her, not responding.

She stood to her feet and moved back a step, trying to see under the dark hood. "Who are you?" Her eyes were growing wide and her breath seemed to be coming faster with each passing second.

"Do you not know?"

"Your voice, your movements, they remind me of someone I loved many years ago. But you cannot be he, for last I knew, he was dead."  Eowyn moved backwards again. "Are you an elf?"

Legolas paused. "Aye.  I have traveled many long years and am paying my respect to the new king of Gondor."

She reached out to touch his face, but he stumbled backwards. "Tell me," she whispered, "did you perchance to cross Prince Legolas of Mirkwood in your many travels?"

"Why does mi'lady wish to know?"

"That voice!" Eowyn cried. "You say it so much like the other one did, it makes my heart quiver with in my chest. If you have any news of him, please tell me, for I have waited many long years for news. Even if he is dead, I wish to know the truth. Please."

Legolas shook his head. "He is alive."

Eowyn's eyes closed for a moment and her shoulders sagged in relief. "Thank the Valar," she murmured. Then she lifted her eyes to the cloaked figure once more.  "Does he still…" her voice trailed off.

Somehow, Legolas knew innately what it was that she wished to ask. "He still loves you as he did before."  He took a deep breath; it was now or never.  "And it is he who is standing before your eyes."  Trembling, he reached up and removed the hood from his face, allowing her to look upon his face for the first time in many years.

Eowyn's hand flew to her mouth and for a moment everything stood still. Then she reached out one hand to touch the face before her. "It is true? Or has mine eyes and ears at last deceived me? So many months I have longed…"

Legolas reached up and encompassed her small hand with his, leaning into the caress. "It is me. I have come back to you just as I had promised that night long ago."

Eowyn stifled a sob that rose up to choke her in her throat. "It..it…is really you." She collapsed bonelessly into his arms, sobbing against his chest.  "Legolas…"

Holding her tightly against his chest, Legolas stroked her hair as the tears began to creep to his own eyes. "I came back, Eowyn, see? Just as I promised you," his voice was choked with the pain from the years that he spent apart from her.  "Oh, Eowyn. Never will I leave you again. I was so wrong to leave you. Forgive me." He sobbed sharply. "Oh, Eowyn…"

The sun shone a little brighter in the garden and the trees did their best to hide the two from the view of the world. They knew that this was simply the calm before the storm.  They wanted to give these to a tiny bit of comfort, a tiny bit of solace, to look back on in the hard days and nights to come.  For on the other side of the garden, a Lord Faramir was calling Eowyn's name.

**((was that a cliffhanger? Oops…**))****


	6. I Held On For You

**((Author's note: uhum…here it is…I hope this is sorta what everyone was hoping for.  I have a plot all in my mind, but it's gonna be complicated so I hope ya'll stay interested…lol…****))**

**Disclaimer: If I did own Legolas and Aragorn and Faramir and Eomer…..do you think I would be spending _any _time on the computer? Heck no…**

_Dedicated to Elisabeth, who insists that Legolas is hotter then Bruh-Bruh (what a lie…)_

_­­­­­­­­_­___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**                                                                                                       I Held On For You**

**                                                                                                                  _By Eck_**

Éowyn wrapped her fingers around Legolas' tunic, enjoying the feel of him against her.  It had been so long, too long, since she had been in his arms.  Another tear dripped gently down her face and was absorbed in Legolas' cloak.

Legolas looked down at the blonde head pressed against his chest and leaned to tenderly place a kiss on top of the golden tresses.  "I will never leave you again, my lovely one." His eyes were full of gentleness.  "This I vow to you."

She nodded into him, longing to stay like this forever.

He lifted his eyes to the heavens, feeling his eyes mist slightly. "Thank the Valar you are once again in my arms, for I missed you so."  He pulled her tighter. _I never want to let go…_

"Éowyn!"

Startled, she jerked backward out of Legolas' surprised arms, pushing against his chest.  Hastily wiping at her face, she tried to compose herself. _No, not here…not now…not just when…_

Legolas reached beseechingly for her, trying to call her back to him.  What had he done wrong? What had he said? "Éowyn…"

Trembling, she held up one hand and placed it against his chest; effectively pausing his forward momentum. "Stop, just please stop."  Another tear fell down her cheek, unbidden, at the confused pain she saw in his eyes.  "Please do not touch me. I do not think I could ever bear it."  _Or I do something we both later regret…_

"What is the matter?" he pleaded.  "Please, I love you."

She choked on his words, burying her face into her hands. "Do not say that, I beg of you.  Please do not love me.  I am not worthy. The things I have done…" Her shoulders shook as the sobs racked her body.

"Nothing you have done would make me stop loving you. I will love you no matter what."

"No…" she moaned.

"Éowyn!" called the voice louder.  "Where are you?"

She jerked her head up, once again trying to restore herself to composure.  Taking several deep breaths, she attempted to stop the tears and her racing heart.

Legolas looked up at the voice, searching the garden with his eyes. "Who is that?"  He whispered.  When there was no response, he turned to glance at her wide eyes.  "Éowyn?"

Her eyes bore the look of a deer caught in the hunter's crossbow.  "Legolas," she started to say more and then stopped.  "Just remember I have always loved you these long years.  But I thought you were dead…"

Legolas nodded, forcing another smile despite the fear in his heart. "I know. I love you too.  Everything will be fine," he assured, once again reaching for her.  "I am here now."  _Why is she saying this…_

She just shook her head silencing whatever he would have said as the footsteps drew closer to their hiding place. "I love you," she mouthed one last time, fighting desperately to keep the tears from her eyes.  Then turned.  "I am here, Faramir."

The steward of Gondor broke into the little area.  His eyes lit up when he saw Éowyn standing a few feet away.  "There you are! I have been scouring the castle for you."

The trees themselves seemed to rustle their displeasure at the entrance.

Her returned laughter seemed forced and brittle. "I have been here the entire time.  Where else would I be? You know how I love the garden."

Faramir smiled gently at her, and then his handsome face creased in worry.  "Are you alright, Éowyn?" he asked, taking in her red nose, watery eyes, and overly pale complexion.

Éowyn hastily wiped at her face again. "I am fine. The spring time always brings my allergies on, you know."

Faramir nodded but there was still a hint of concern on his face. For the first time he seemed to notice the garden's other occupant. "Ah," he cried, moving towards Legolas. "You must be the elf that Lord Aragorn was telling me of, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood."  He heartily shook the elf's hand. "I hope that your stay in Gondor will be a pleasant one.  I am Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor."

"Please to meet you," Legolas managed.

"I assume you have already met my wife, Lady Éowyn," Faramir reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling the Lady close to his side.  "Did you not both fight together at the Battle of Helm's Deep?  If I recall correctly, that is."

Legolas felt his entire world sway in and out of focus. For a moment, he thought his heart would break into a million pieces, shattered like so much broken.  _His wife? Éowyn? My Éowyn? _

His troubled eyes met with Eowyn's for a pleading moment and he saw all the confusion, the despair, the pain.  Out of haze, he watched her nodding in consent and his mind was brought back to Faramir's question.

He took several deep breaths trying to calm his raging emotions, ignoring the scratchy feeling in his throat.  _Calm. _ Pasting a fake smile onto his face, he took a step forward offering his hand to Éowyn.  "It was a very brief acquaintance, Lord Faramir." He directed his eyes to Éowyn. "I am pleased to meet you once again, Lady Denethor."

Biting her lip to keep her tears at bay at the tone, she nodded. "And yours, Prince Legolas." It sounded so formal, so stiff, so unlike the words a few moments before.  She opened her moth to say something more but decided against it.

Legolas nodded and bowed slightly at the waist. "I should be going to prepare for breakfast. Will you two be there?"  He pulled his cloak tighter around him, shivering at the cold in his heart.

Faramir answered for the both of them. "Of course."  His eyes glanced between his wife and the Prince as if he could sense something had gone on before he had arrived.

Resisting the urge to flee the garden, Legolas turned and walked from the garden and back into the castle.  His breath seemed to come faster with every step and the dull ache would not leave his chest.  He wanted to run, he wanted to scream, he wanted to pound his head against the wall. Anything to feel alive. Anything to not feel this horrid dead feeling that was eating him from the inside out.

As soon as he was out of the garden, he broke into a run, his arms pumping up and down in a rhythmic manner and his breath heaving.

His steps carried him through the palace and out into the courtyard, then pass the guards and out into the city streets of Gondor. 

There, surrounded by all humanity, he stopped his mad race to escape the pain.  Wrapping his arms around his chest, he tried to block out the pain that was stemming through his chest from his heart.

"Why?" he murmured to the clouds. "I survived for her. I lived because I would be with her again.  Was it worth it?"  His stomach clenched and ached of its own free will.  "Why?" his voice cracked and choked. "I lived for you."

All he wanted was to ride form this city and never come back. But he knew in heart that he could not.  _Remember why you are here. Aragorn's life is at stake._ _If that is all you live for, then let it be so._

He closed his eyes, feeling his heart quicken.  Even though it was a clear day, he could still see the smoke and smell the fire…

_The boards crashed around him, burying him.  Flames licked at his legs, eating away at his cotton leggings._

_As the pain assaulted all his senses, he bit back the urge to scream in pain.  His legs writhed uselessly, trying to escape from the torment that was slowly devouring them alive._

_Pushing through the broken boards that covered him, he managed to sit up straight even though his broken ribs screamed with the extreme effort.  Ignoring the heat, he pushed his arms through the flames, attempting to get the burning board from his legs. A trickle of blood fell down his face from where a piece of wood had cut him._

_He coughed and choked on the smoke as the pain assaulted him all sides.  But his need, desire for survival overrode all those senses.  Frantically, he pulled and pushed at the unmoving wood._

_Hysteria began to take over his mind and he collapsed backward, gasping for oxygen that would not come in the thick smoke.  Pain. Pain everywhere. And he was helpless to stop it. All he could do was wait for the end._

_His chest pounded up and down as his lungs screamed for desperate relief.  So this is then, he thought, I am to die in a burning building in a place where few people even know who I really am.  Vision was swimming in and out as his eyes slowly began to glaze over._

_As the pain once again threatened to dunk him to unconsciousness, a face flashed through his mind and a voice sounded in his ear. With his last breath, he cried the name that had kept him alive to this point and that would keep him alive this time._

_"Eowyn!"_

He jerked back reality with a start as a man crashed into him, mumbling an apology.  Closing his eyes, he breathed in and out several times, mentally preparing himself. Then with the air of a warrior heading towards the battle of his life, he turned and walked back to the castle.

_"Arwen does not like it if you are late to a meal."_

**((there…that wasn't a cliffhanger…I think…owell****))**


	7. Breathe

**((Author's note: so sorry this is late but real life managed to get extremely in the way.**))****

**Disclaimer: I own nothing (period)**

_Dedicated to David for…you know…_

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**                                                                                                     Breathe**

**                                                                                                      _By Eck_**

Step.  Step. Step. Step. Step.  

As he grew closer to the door the steps became slower and farther apart.  The door itself looked innocent enough, but Legolas could almost feel the pain that opening the door would cause his susceptible heart.

He paused a moment and gulped in a few deep gasps of air, trying to still his pounding heart.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

Panic swelled through his heart for a moment and he almost turned to flee from the hallway, but pride held him there.  

Drawing his pale hand over his forehead, he straightened his shoulders and covered the last few steps to the door in two long strides.  His hand went to the knob and before he could think of his actions, he opened the door and allowed himself to fall inside.

The smell of warm food and perfume assaulted his nose.  Light shone in from the glass windows and reflected off the crystal chandelier dangling over the room.  In the middle of the room, a table laden with many elaborate dishes was set up.  Around it sat Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir and Éowyn, as well as a few others Legolas could not recognize.

All consuming panic began to take over his brain as his gaze rested on all the faces looking back at him.  Faces that would want to know all of his stories, faces that would pity him for giving his heart to a mortal woman.

_The door is only a few steps behind, you can still escape…still get free and run away…run far, far away, where no one can hurt you.  You can do it! You can still not face this tragedy before you._

Aragorn stood from the head of the head of the table and began walking towards him.  "Legolas, it is good to see that you have risen!" his voice was soft in Legolas' ear, as if coming across a great distance.

Shaking himself loose from his thoughts, Legolas allowed his face to break into a genuine smile at the sight of his friend.  "And you, Aragorn."  He forced his eyes away from Faramir and Éowyn.

Aragorn draped an arm across his shoulders and guided him towards the table. "Sit, sit! And eat anything you like. I am afraid the cook thinks that an army dines with us at every meal."  The jolly laughter that followed sounded forced and strained.

Legolas again smiled but took a close look at his friend's eyes.

Remorse and sorrow were written inside the murky depths and the lips were slightly pursed in worry.

"Aragorn…" he whispered.

Turning his head, Aragorn cocked his head in a silent question.

"I know."

A sigh of relief escaped Aragorn's lips and was quickly replaced by a sympathetic frown. "I am so sorry, mellonamin.  I wanted to tell you, but I did not want to ruin my reunion with you."  He shrugged helplessly.  "I am sorry."

Legolas nodded tightly. "It is not your fault."

One of the serving maids gestured for him to sit on the left hand of the king.  "This place has been prepared for you," she informed in a low, husky voice.  "Your food will arrive in a moment."

Legolas nodded his thanks as he sat.

True to her word, a steaming plate arrived a few seconds later. It was laden with a rich variety of breads, fruits, and meats.

As he looked at it, Legolas felt him stomach turn slightly at the rich smells.  It seemed unnatural to eat something so fine after so many weeks of eating nothing at all.  It was different. Slowly, he picked up the utensils and began to pick at the food. Aragorn would not give him a moment of peace if he did not at least eat something.

Conversation passed over his head and he was content to not become involved in it.

Feeling eyes on his head, he glanced upward momentarily and locked gazes with Éowyn.  He almost choked on his food at the pain he saw in those eyes but managed to recover. Offering a small smile, he turned back his food and pretended to be interested in it.

Faramir watched as Legolas ate his meal quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on his plate and his comments to himself.

He felt sorry for the slim elf.  There was an aura of sadness that seemed to hang around the blonde head and the blue eyes were filled with an unexplainable sorrow.  Faramir knew that elves were supposed to be thin, but this one took the word to whole new terms.

Subtly, he waved the cook to put more of the sumptuous food in front of the elf. It was a wasted effort, however.  Legolas had barely eaten the food that was already on his plate.

Faramir paid little heed to the conversation around him.  His mind was on the elf.  When he had first heard the elf's name, he had felt his stomach lurch within him.

He had heard the name before.  It was the name that Éowyn called out in her nightmares; it was the name she whispered when they made love; it was the name she asked for when she was delirious with fever.  

It was the name of the one that Faramir constantly felt hanging over their marriage like a ghost from the past. This ghost had been Éowyn's first love, and if he was honest with himself, her only love.

Faramir had never known who the name belonged to, but he had always felt that he would hate him.  But now as the elf sat a few feet away, Faramir felt no malice in his heart towards him. Only a deep sadness that Legolas had been ripped from everyone he loved and thrust into an obviously cruel world.

He risked a glance at his wife and found her eyes fixed on the bowed golden head before her.  Quickly, he turned away. It was none of his business.

Bitter tears rose in his throat.  He loved Éowyn so much.  But he loved her so much that he would let her go.

Legolas kept his head down.  Their eyes were on him again, piercing, penetrating eyes that seemed to sear through muscle and bone.  His brain screamed that he was overacting. These people were friendly; they would not hurt him like the others did.

The sounds around him seemed impossible blurred and loud, swimming around him in a mass of hysteria.

His eyes came up to look at Aragorn, the man's breath hot on his face.

Heat. Oppressive heat that was seeping through his skin.  The light streaming through the windows suddenly seemed tight and unyielding.  Walls, coming closer to his body.

_Breathe,_ he encouraged himself.  _Breathe.  Just breathe._

Heat, loud, walls.  Just like…

He needed to get out.

Pushing back from the table, he wavered to his feet, one hand flying to his pounding head.

Aragorn looked up when Legolas suddenly stood.  His brow furrowed for a moment.  "Legolas?" he asked, his mouth still full of food.  "Are you alright?"  He began to stand himself, reaching for his friend. "Legolas?"

Legolas looked with cloudy vision at the hand reaching towards him.  Hurting hands.  "No," he murmured.  "No."   His feet tripped backwards.  "No."

Dark hair wobbled and smeared in his line of vision.

He needed to get out.

Spinning from the calling voices, he started to run.  Door appeared before him so he shoved them open. Nothing mattered except escaping this place.

Éowyn felt herself moving after Legolas before she was fully conscious of her own movements.  Three years of soft living had not dimmed her athletic skills in the least; holding her skirts with one hand, she ran after the elf, down the hallways and then out of the doors.

Legolas stopped as soon as he reached the main streets.  Leaning heavily against a pole, he took deep breaths of the city air.  A gentle breeze waved through his hair and cooled his hot neck.

He was safe. No one could hurt him.  No fire could reach him. 

_The child's dying screams echoed in his ears.  "Legolas! Legolas! Help me!"_

_His own weakness seemed to come at him from all sides and the pain jumped into his nerves.  He could not get out.  He was trapped.  He could not save anyone.   And the child would die for his folly.  He was helpless. _

_Giving a frustrated shout, he slammed his hand into the burning wood, not caring that the burn spread over his head._

_"Legolas!__ Legolas!"_

"Legolas?"  The voice was accompanied by a hand touching the small of his back gently.

His tensed muscles exploded with the intrusion.  Twisting around, he grabbed the wrist and flipped the light body over his head.  While still keeping a grip on the wrist, he cushioned the fall with his other arm as he followed it down.

They landed in the grass, Legolas on top of the body.  

Long blonde hair covered his vision for a moment and when it cleared he saw startled doe blue eyes before him. "Éowyn!" he choked. "What are you doing here?"

Moving just as fast, she used her legs to leverage him over her head and followed with a back roll so she was sitting facing him.  "I followed you out here because it looked like you needed a friend.  I did not expect to get attacked."

Legolas pushed himself from the sprawled position he had landed in.  "I could have killed you."

Éowyn shrugged.  "Perhaps I am stronger than you can imagine."  She took her first good look at him.  His eyes were red, his cheeks white, and his lips slightly bloody from where he had bit them.  "Legolas…"

He held a hand up. "Do not say it. Please.  Just give me a moment."

Respectfully, she waited as he collected himself.  Then spoke again in a softer tone.  "I am so sorry."

A bitter chuckle came from the elf before her.  "I lived for you."

"As I did you."

He blinked at her.

"When you first left, I thought my life was over.  I confessed my love for someone and then he leaves a few moments later.  That is not easily to deal with. I almost died a few weeks later fighting the Witch King.  That is when I met Faramir."

"Love at first sight?" Legolas' voice was tinged with sarcasm.

"No, actually.  He provided a much needed companionship during the weeks I was recovering.  Faramir became a friend, a confidant. Then he began to court me.  For two years he sought my hand in marriage. I agreed last year. Eomer encouraged me because it would strengthen relationships with Gondor…"  Her voice trailed slowly off. "I never wanted it.  I wanted you. But you were not there…"

Legolas held up his hands.  "Stop. Please stop. I do not want to hear it." Staggering to his feet, he stared down her.  "I need to go away."

She felt the tears prick at her eyes.  "Where will you go?"

"I do not know."  He swallowed hard. "Tell Aragorn I will return."  He turned and stumbled down the crowded street.

"Legolas," she called after him but he did not turn around to look back.  Remaining where she was, Éowyn watched him until his slim form disappeared around the corner.  

And then, she cried.

**((well…um…don't kill me?))**


	8. The Stars Are Shining Tonight

**((Author's note:  here it is…and it's late so no long author's note for once…))**

**Disclaimer:  if you think I own Legolas…then you need severe help.  BUT I GET TO SEE HIM IN A FEW WEEKS!!! Well...not Legolas…but ****Orlando**** Bloom.**

**Dedicated to David for the information he gave me on Julius Caesar, though it was sickening.**

**                                                                                               The Stars Are Shining Tonight**

**                                                                                                                   By Eck**

Aragorn paced the throne room nervously.  "Where is he?"  he said aloud.

Faramir once again shrugged, as he had done the countless other times that Aragorn has asked this question.  "We have guards searching the streets at this very moment, my king…"

"It is not enough!"

Bowing his head in submission, Faramir held his peace over the bitter words flung in his direction.

"I should have gone after him right away,"  Aragorn muttered, mostly to himself.

Faramir did not say a word.

"But I thought he would be alright.   He is, after all, an elf.  He can take care of himself."  Aragorn made a sharp turn seconds before he ran into one of the marble statues that adorned the throne room.

Faramir made a mental note to ask the servants to move all the statues against the wall.

"For all I know, he could have left Gondor again!"  Aragorn swerved to avoid another statue.

Silently, Faramir winced as he imagined the only remaining statue of Isulidir crashing to the floor in a thousand pieces.  On the other hand, maybe he would just move the statues himself.

"Where is he?"

Faramir shrugged.  "My king…"

"Yes, I know that the guards are scouring the city streets!"  Aragorn pounded his fist into one of the walls with a resounding bang.  "And I tell you, it is not enough!"

Faramir nodded in mute acceptance of the king's words. One second thought, the best thing might be to remove the precious statues from the throne room entirely.

"He could be halfway into Lothlorien by now!"

A servant poked his head in to see what the commotion was about.

Faramir swiftly motioned him away.

The servant took one look at the irate king and did as he was told.

"Have you checked the stables to see if Legolas has taken a horse recently?"  Aragorn barked, pausing his furious pacing to look fully at his Steward standing in the corner.

Faramir cleared his throat and nodded.  "Yes, my liege."

Aragorn harumphed his approval and then resumed his pacing.  "Well?"

Uncomfortably, Faramir shifted his feet around.  "No horses have been taken from the stables by an elf."

"What if they did not realize he was an elf?"

Faramir decided it would be best not to answer.

Aragorn ran his fingers through his hair.  "Why are your guards not back yet?"

"Gondor is a big city…"

"Yes, but it is not that big."

Faramir eyed the interpretive statue of the Valar. He had never been quite sure which one it was and at the rate Aragorn was headed for it, it appeared that it would not matter much longer.

Aragorn swerved around the Valar.

Faramir sighed in relief.

"Where is he?" Aragorn stormed once again.

How it happened next, Faramir was never quite sure.

Somehow, Aragorn's foot caught on one of the ornate rugs.  He was too caught up in his thoughts to even notice at first.

Watching in mute horror, Faramir felt frozen as he watched his king fall with his arms outstretched to catch himself, directly toward a bust made in the likeness of Lord Elrond.

There was a silent moment in the throne room before Aragorn collided with the bust and it was filled with the sounds of shattering marble as Aragorn and the bust connected with the hard floor.

Shaking himself free from his petrified state, Faramir ran the few steps to his king's side kneeling to help him up.   "King Aragorn?  Are you alright?"  Aragorn?"

Slowly, the king of men raised his eyes to meet those of his steward.  "You know, Faramir," he said, "we should really move these statues out of the throne room.  Or at least we should move them up against the wall."

The bar was slightly darkened and full of crowded noises.  Smells of intoxication lingered liberally in the air and men staggered about to the tunes of a happy folk song being played on the low piano in the corner.  It was getting late into the evening, the sun was beginning to set outside in a beautiful blend of vibrant colors.

A few more sober girls paraded here and there as they swung their scantily clad hips and bosoms.  With an air of sweet sultriness, they urged the men to just have one more drink before stumbling off to their beds…and their wives.

Legolas shook his head in silent rejection as one of the more adventurous girls tried to cheer up the handsome stranger with the sad look on his face.   

She walked away with a backwards glance over her bare shoulder.  "I think he's an elf,"  she murmured to the other girls awaiting her return.  "A handsome one at that."

Sighing pitifully, Legolas lowered his head until his blonde hair fell like a curtain around his face.  Aragorn was probably looking for him by now.  He had wandered the streets all day until he had finally found his way here.  

A sob almost tore out  his throat but he stopped it in time.  He had run again.  _Coward!  His mind screamed at him.  _Not deserving to be called and elf!  You ran! Just like the time… _Legolas took another sip of the brew in his hand, effectively drowning out that train of thought as he tried not to gag at the bitter taste.  Yet it had a comforting note too.   With a bitter smile, he remembered the first time he had ventured into one of these bars…and had come out stone drunk.  Right after…_

"Hey, Sweetie."

It was another bar girl.  This one had long shimmering blonde hair.

Legolas made an effort to focus his blurry eyes on the hair.  Not the face.

She smiled taking it as a sign of approval that he had not shaken his head.  Lowering herself gracefully onto the stool next to him, she laid one delicate hand on his arm.  "Buy me a drink?" she whispered.

Legolas stared a the hand.

Long fingers came from a soft white palm, untouched by the labors of hard work.  Red nails showed great care and attention, not chipped or scarred like one who fought.  They were not Eowyn's hands.

He removed her hand none too gently and stood.  "I better be going," he mumbled to the floor.

She reached up pulled at  his arm.  "Is something wrong?"

"No…I just…"

"He is just a little intoxicated," finished a smooth voice to Legolas' left.  A firm hand reached out and took his shoulder.  "Do not trouble yourself, miss, I shall take care of him."

"You know him?"

"Know him?" the man laughed.  "We were practically soul mates when we traveled together out in the Wilds together.  Is that not correct, my little Legolas?"

Something inside Legolas flashed out a warning. He should not be feeling this woozy after only after half a drink.  Besides, he was an elf.   It took a lot to get an elf really drunk.  "What…"

The hand on his arm tugged slightly.  "Come on, my young friend.  You need to be getting to bed."

_That voice…_Legolas struggled through his hazy thoughts.  _Where have I heard that voice before…  _ A distant memory flashed through his brain.  "_Come, my young friend, this shall not be unpleasant…"  _Legolas jerked visibly as if a blow had struck him.  "No!"  he tried to shout, but it came out as a weak murmur as his senses dulled further.   _He drugged my drink… _A part of him reasoned logically.

The hand tugged again, drawing him through the bar and towards the swinging door.

Colors blended together before him and he stumbled as his legs grew rubbery beneath his weight.  Using the last of his strength, he tried to pull away from the hand but it held firm.

"Do not struggle!" the voice hissed in his ear. "It will only be worse for you."

Legolas felt his fight drain away. He knew what worse would be from this man.  Allowing himself to be dragged through the bar, he concentrated on keeping his legs underneath him.

With a final tug, the man and him were through the doors and into the cold air outside.

Looking with blurred vision towards the sky, Legolas took peace in the dimly shining stars. Even as a hand clamped around his waist, lifting him fully from the street and as the cloth smelling of something sweet was place over his mouth and nose, Legolas kept his gaze fixed on the winking stars.  He did not tear his gaze away until his eyes glazed over in a sleep that he was not sure he would ever awake from…

**((wow…that was more of a cliff hanger than I thought it would be.  But it was a really good one.  Do you not think?))**


	9. Always

**((Author's note:  sorry this took so long…I had league preliminaries for track this week and a the county speech meet (which went all stinking day)  I'm writing this in between school and League Finals and the play tonight.  So…I hope you all enjoy.  This is not a really action oriented chapter….it sets the stage for the final big action thingy…****))**

_Dedicated to Brennan…(and my sister who puts up with my infatuation)_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.  So stop asking.**

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                                                                 **Always**

                                                                                                                  By Eck

Legolas awoke.  His first conscious thought was how hard the stone was beneath him.  His second was to complain about the brightness of the sun. Taking in a deep gasping breath, he experimentally moved his limbs.  He was not surprised to find them all in working order with no bindings.

A lovely sunrise and a cool breeze revealed that he was not indoors either.  Smells of hot foods and noises of people talking were assaulting him from every direction.

Anger surged over him and he pounded his fist onto the stone.  He turned his face away from the sun and bit his lip, relishing the pain that shot out from it and the tangy taste of blood in his mouth.

Games.  It was all a game…showing who had the power, who was in control.  It was a mind game.  Why did he could continue to torture him so?  The least he could do was finally put Legolas out of his misery instead of plaguing him with the little things like this?

He had been in the North, roaming the villages and cities there.  Within a year he had made his reputation as the best hunter, tracker, and archer in the land.  Know one knew what he looked like; he was an enigma, a legend.

Legolas had liked it that way, his mind still hurting over Éowyn.  He was never quite sure when he had started taking risky chances, but he had.  Before long he had made quite a few enemies, people who wanted to prove that they were better than his "legend".

It had started out small, like all things do.   A knife lying next to him when he awoke in the morning, where it had not been before.  His favorite shirt slashed into tattered cloths.  

Then it had gotten bigger.  Going to sleep in his own bed and then awaking in a place he had never seen before, never bound, never injured in anyway; just relocated.  A knife stabbed into his pillow, mere inches from his head.  All meant to instill fear, to prove who was in control.

Legolas had tried to hunt down the person or people responsible but at every corner he was met with a dead-end.  And then it had happened.

Even at the memory, his eyes closed tightly and his breathing quickened.  No!  He would not think of that now.  There was no need to. No need to remember the fire, the screams, the bodies, the one body of the child.  Of his…

A sob choked him and he rubbed his forehead against the cool, rough stone of the paved ground.

He had given up after that, secluding himself in the woods.  Allowing the ancient trees there to comfort him when no man could.  He had created a small home for himself there.  Very humble, but it had become his place of comfort.  A place where he could escape from the world gone wrong that was all around him, haunting his every single step.

Then one morning he had awoken to find a portrait of Éowyn hanging on the wall of his room, where had none been before.  It had been brutally slashed with a knife and animal blood had been drizzled across the fair skin.  The next night the same thing was done with a portrait of Aragorn.

Within a week, he had packed his bags and started off on the long trek towards Gondor and the two people who meant the most to him in all of Middle Earth, hoping against hope that he was not to late to save them.

Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, Legolas felt his stomach heave in protest of the after affects of the drug he had inhaled.  He gagged several times before finally feeling his stomach settling back down.  His blonde hair fell in sticky strands around his face.  Slowly, he lifted his tired head and stared down the alley way at the bustling street.

Footsteps sounded behind him and he spun, hands reaching for knives that were no longer there.

He half expected to see the face of the man who haunted all his worst dreams and nightmares behind him, finally ready to deal the final blow to his victim.  Almost disappointed, he noted it was a young man wearing the uniform of one of Aragorn's personal palace guards.

"Sir?" the guard said, holding one hand out as if soothing a frightened animal.

Legolas absently wondered how scary he actually looked right now.  "What?" he whispered.  "What do you want?"

The man, or boy (he could not have been more than 19 by man's standard, Legolas noted), looked up and down him.  "Are you an elf, sir?"

"That would explain the pointy ears," Legolas retorted.

The boy flushed.  "Sir, the king has all of his Guard out looking for an elf by the name of Legolas Greenleaf.  Would you be he?"

Legolas nodded, he had to give the boy some credit, holding a professional tone despite Legolas' insults.  "I am."  He ran his long fingers through his hair.  "Tell Aragorn to stop worrying about.  I shall be home within the hour."

"But, sir, we were told to escort you home immediately."

Legolas sighed loudly. His head was pounding, his ears were ringing, and his stomach felt like it was going to jump out of his throat.  "Look, I will be back to the castle within the hour.  I shall take whatever punishment gives you for your breach in conduct of not escorting me home.  Understand?"

The boy nodded.  "Yes, sir. Do you need any help?"

"No, just go along back to the castle and inform Aragorn.  I am positive he has been up all night worrying."

The guard bowed slightly and ran off the way he had come.  Just before he reached the corner to disappear, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, eyes wide with uncertainty.

As soon as Legolas was sure he was gone, he turned to stagger off in the opposite direction.  Then a white piece of paper caught his eye.

It was lying a few feet away, secured underneath a heavy stone.

Carefully, he knelt and removed the paper with nimble fingers.  The black words seemed to jump out at him.

_Not all stories have a happy ending…mellonamin._

Legolas groaned and crumpled the note into a ball.  Rising gracefully to his feet, he spun wildly, looking for anyone that could be connected with his haunter.  "What do you want?"  he shouted at last.  Then softer, "what do you want?"

A few passerbyers turned to stare at him, but he took no notice.

Golden sunlight smiled down at him.

"Please, please.  Do not hurt Éowyn," he murmured, closing his eyes.  "I beg of you, I will do anything, give anything.  Just do not hurt her."

There was no answer, not as if he expected one.

Sniffing quietly, he looked down at his hands.  They were covered in dirt and grime.  He wrinkled his nose.  He needed to take a bath badly.

It was only a half hour later when a much cleaner Legolas paused at the tall iron gate before a smaller version of Aragorn's castle.

The guards glared coldly at him so he strolled onward, his blue eyes alert to all of his surroundings.

When he had turned the corner of the castle, he quickly jumped on to the vine covered walls and boosted himself over with one smooth motion.  Landing soundlessly on the grass, he crept towards the cover of the nearby trees.

Elvish singing touched his ears and he stiffened imperceptibly.  

On silent feet, he moved across the courtyard towards the sound of the voice.  He knew who it was.  It was the voice that had haunted his dreams on the long nights, the voice that had chased him all the way to Gondor in the past few months.

"Are you an elf?"

Legolas looked down in surprise.  He had been so wrapped up in the singing he had not noticed the small one coming towards him.  Slowly he knelt to a crouched position.  "I am, young one.  And you are?"

She had large brown eyes and golden hair that fell in waves to the small of her back.  Reaching out one tentative hand, she felt his golden locks.  "Pretty," she declared softly.  Then paused, "Mommy said they were looking for an elf.  Then she cried,"  the child informed matter-of-factly.

For a moment air refused to enter his lungs and Legolas jerked back in surprise.  "Who is…" he swallowed hard, "who is your mother, child?"

"I am, Legolas."

Jumping to his feet, Legolas felt all the breath whoosh out of his lungs as his eyes met Éowyn's and he remembered just how much she meant to him.  Why he had risked everything to come her.  Then he noticed the child nestled in her arms.  "Éowyn…"

"And this is also mine," she murmured and held the small child up for Legolas' inspection 

Huge blue eyes, so much like Éowyn's blinked at Legolas.

"His name is Claron," she said to his unspoken question.  "And this Lina."

The girl waved. "I am almost two!"  she said proudly.

Legolas smiled at her and then looked back to Éowyn's eyes.  "Your's and Faramir's?"

She nodded.  "I did marry him, Legolas."

The pain must have showed on his face, because Éowyn dropped her gaze immediately.

"Lina, take your brother and go back to the house.  I will be along shortly."  Her voice was soft and full of hidden pain.

Lina nodded and carefully took the burden her mother handed to her and ran back towards the house.

Once they were alone, the silence seemed to penetrate both of them.

Legolas took several deep breaths and then stepped forward. "Éowyn," he began.

She held up her hand.  "Please do not.  I could not bear it."

"Are you happy?"

She looked up, surprised at the question. "What do you mean?"

Legolas waved his hand at the gardens and in the direction the children had just went.  "With this. Are you happy with all of this?"

Éowyn took a quick glance back at her children.  "I love my children and I love my husband."

Legolas looked away.

"But…" she continued. "I would have a very difficult time refusing your offer to run away with you," she paused.  "If you should offer," she quickly added and then looked away.

Looking up sharply, Legolas' mind tumbled around.  Was this an offer?  Should he ask now?

Éowyn gestured to a small bench sitting a few yards away.  Once they had both been seated, she began to speak again.  "When I married Faramir, he knew that I did not love him.  He was always aware that my first love was not he."

Legolas started to speak but she held up a hand to stop him.

"That ghost of my first love was always with us, haunting us.  He knew that I could never love him completely if that ghost, you, were still so in control of my heart."  She sighed softly.  "He knew who you were, the moment he laid eyes on us in the garden yesterday.  When you disappeared, he came to talk to me.  He told me that he loved me greatly, but that if I really desired, he would let me go with you and leave him behind.  Even though it would break his heart.  He hoped that maybe if I did return to him, your ghost would be gone."

Legolas reached out one hand and stroked her face, this time she did not protest.  "Oh, Éowyn.  You know that I love you and my heart desires nothing more than to be with you forever."  Legolas swallowed and felt his heart break.  "But if you are truly happy, I would never draw you away from here."

Éowyn closed her eyes and gathered her resolve.  "I love him, Legolas.  Not as I loved you, but I do love him greatly.  It hurts me to know that he is scared that I may not return to him. He has been good to me and it would do my heart wrong if I would leave him now."

"I understand."  Legolas stared at her, trying to commit her fair face to his memory forever.  "I love you, though.  And if you ever need me, I will be here for you."

She nodded.  "And I thank you for that."

Legolas glanced downward at his hands and then back up at her. "So this is goodbye?"

"No!"  She cried, reaching out to grab him.  "Please, never leave me again! I could not…I could not bear it.  Please, be my friend!  Let this just be the close of a chapter in our lives."

Legolas nodded, even though he wondered if he could ever bear to see her as Faramir's wife and know that she would never be his.  "As you wish."  He stood.  "I must leave now.  Aragorn should probably be ready to behead me by now."  Legolas made an effort to smile.  "Until next time, Éowyn, mellonamin."

She nodded and he walked towards the wall whence he had come.  "Legolas!" she cried suddenly.

He turned.

"You do know that I will always love you?"

He smiled at her though it seemed rather forced.  "Always."  And then he was gone.

**((HAHAHAHA!!!!**** I bet none of you can guess my ending…))**


	10. Confessions and Fears

**See Chapter 1 for disclaimers, warnings, etc…**

**Sorry about the long update…Real life was killing me (still is but that isn't the point) but this chapter was fun to write for me.  There should be 2-3 more chapters and the next one should bring the climax….**

**                                                                                          Confessions and Fear**

Legolas stood quietly only half listening to Aragorn's tirade about a certain Prince who did not know how to inform people of his whereabouts.  His arms were folded casually over his chest as he leaned against the hard wall.

He has arrived at the castle a half a hour before.  He had been quite proud of himself for slipping past the guards yet again and that had been his downfall.  As he turned to go down the hallway leading to Aragorn's study, the king himself had appeared from around a corner.  Needless to say, King Elessar was not happy.

Faramir had slipped out several minutes before on the pretense to go check on the progress of dinner.

As the loud words continued, Legolas' thoughts slipped from the room and drifted upwards and in the direction of Éowyn.  It was over.  He had seen her children.  He had seen the look in her eyes when she spoke of Faramir and knew in his heart that he no longer had a place in her life.  Her dreams, yes.  But not her life.

Would he leave again?

Once again the answer was no.  He would not abandon Aragorn again and he felt a need to stay near to Éowyn and her family, to protect them.  If he did leave, who would know what his mysterious pursuer would do in his absence.

"Are you listening to me?"

Legolas' eyes turned sharply back to Aragorn.  "Of course, my king," he said, making sure Aragorn caught the sarcastic slur.

Aragorn took a breath.  "I am sorry, mellonamin.  I was simply concerned about your safety."

"I am not a child, Aragorn. In fact, I am a good deal older than you."

"Then act like it!" His voice was sharp but Legolas could detect a hint of teasing in it.

Legolas chuckled lightly, feeling amused for the first time since he had fought Aragorn in the darkness of his study.  "You sound like my father."

"Your father was a wise man."

Legolas pursed his lips thoughtfully.  "Perhaps."

A pause.

"Aragorn…"

"Legolas…"

Both paused to look at each other, Legolas motioning for Aragorn to speak first.

"I am sorry I did not tell you of Éowyn.  I was so happy to have you back and I did not wish to ruin it by bring up those ill tidings.  But when Faramir informed me of what happened in the garden, I knew I had made a mistake.  Will you forgive me?"

Legolas nodded. "Of course I forgive you. I cannot say I would not have done the same if in your shoes.  But, Aragorn, there is another matter which I must speak to you of."

Aragorn cocked an eyebrow to show his attentiveness.

"You  know of the assassin?"

A slight nod.  "Do not concern yourself over him, Legolas.  My guards are highly trained, as am I. Honestly, I do not believe much is to fear from this mysterious assassin."

"He is more dangerous than you believe."

Aragorn was surprised at the fear he saw in his friend's eyes.  "Legolas," he began carefully.  "What do you know of this man?"

Legolas turned from the searching grey eyes of his dear friend.  "I know he is a danger to everything I hold dear. I know that he will stop at nothing to get what he wants."

Aragorn reached out and grasped the muscular arm.  "What does he want, my friend?"

Willing his hands to keep from trembling, he turned back to Aragorn, his face lined with poorly concealed fear that he had tried to hide for years.  "To hurt me by taking the people I hold dearest away."

Slightly shocked by the intensity in his friend's gaze, Aragorn took a step backwards.  "Why?" he finally whispered.

"Why?" Legolas echoed.  "I have no idea.  He has been hunting me for months now and I have yet to fully lay eyes on his face.  He is like a ghost in the way he haunts me."

A nod.  Aragorn turned for a moment to pace.  "You believe he will go after me to hurt you?"

Legolas sucked in his breath at hearing one of his worst fears spoken aloud.  "Yes." His eyes stared into nothingness, his voice nothing but a whisper of air in the room.

Aragorn was about to respond when a crash sounded from the hallway.

Both spun quickly to face the noise as the doors swung inwards without preamble.

A young guard stumbled in, one hand clutching at the door post and the other trying desperately to staunch the spurts of blood in his chest.  "King Elessar!" he gasped out.

Legolas took three steps forward, drawing his knives swiftly.

The young guard choked in another breath.  "There is…"  A hiss of air was the only warning he had as an arrow was buried firmly into his chest.  With a cry of pain he tumbled forward and lay still on the carpet.

Legolas knelt only for a second to check the pulse and then he was up.  With a quick step, he was at the door peering down the hallway.

Aragorn stood numbly, staring at the young man on the ground.  The sound of another arrow shook him out of his stupor just in time to see Legolas hit the ground as an arrow swerved over head.

Legolas rolled back into the room and accidentally collided with the guard's body.  He jerked away.  "It is him," he called to Aragorn.

"How do you know?"

The smile Legolas offered was grim.  "I know."

There was another crash in the hallway and Legolas sheathed his knives in favor of his bow and an arrow.

For a breathless thirty seconds there was silence.

Aragorn could hear his blood pounding through his ears.  His sword was gripped so hard that his knuckles turned a pasty shade of white.

And then he entered.

Legolas was prepared to shoot him as soon as he appeared but the figure held his hands up.

"Peace, my friends, I wish to talk."

Legolas spat at his feet.

Aragorn's answer was more coherent.  "And why should we listen to you?"

"Because if you do not, your wife will die."

Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a quick look.  "We will listen."

"Good. I assume you know who I am, Prince Legolas?"

With a jerky nod, Legolas agreed.  "I know that you have hunted me without cause these years and that you have threatened those who I love most.  But I do not know your name."

"And that is well that you do not."

"Why?" Legolas asked.  "Why do you hunt me?  Why do seek to torment me? If you wish to exact revenge than kill me, do not harm those who I love."

Aragorn took a quick breath and glanced at his friend.  "Legolas…"

"Be still, Aragorn!"

The man laughed.  "Because, Legolas, I have observed you over these years, and I know that it would be a torment worse than death to have those you loved die before you."

Legolas' downcast eyes confirmed his statement.

A knife suddenly appeared in the man's hand.  "Let's begin with him, shall we?"  He gestured to Aragorn with the tip of the knife.

A breath passed and Legolas threw himself in front of Aragorn.  "Let us end it here."  His arrow was aimed firmly at the man's chest.  "You make one move to harm him and I promise you will no longer draw breath."

The man easily sheathed the knife.  "That is too bad but I am afraid our time is up anyways.  Pity.  I was looking forward to the games."  He turned slightly and exited the room.

Legolas stared after him in confusion.

The man stuck his head back in. "By the way, good prince, you might want to check up on…what is her name?....Oh yes. Éowyn.  I hope she is doing well." And he was gone, leaving Legolas to feel his heart freeze in panic.

The only sound in the room was Legolas' ragged breaths when Aragorn reached out to and laid a hand on the tense shoulder.  "Legolas…"

With a cry of rage, Legolas threw himself from Aragorn's grasp and fled towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Éowyn!"

Another second passed, before Aragorn ran after his friend.

Down the stairs.  Through the hallway.  And then to a quick halt as they came to the back entrance by the kitchen.

Faramir, son of Denethor, lay sprawled on the stone with blood dripping from a particularly nasty gash on his head.

Aragorn dropped down besides him, gently shaking him.  "Faramir! Wake up!"

The steward moan slightly and his eyes fluttered.  "Aragorn…there was a man…"

"I know…lay still."

Legolas dropped down so he was in Faramir's line of vision.  "Éowyn! How many guards do you have posted at your house?"

Faramir's brow furrowed as he attempted to collect his muddled thoughts.  "Not enough…" he finally murmured, only slightly comprehending the situation.  The wider as realization sunk in.  "The children!" he struggled to rise.

Aragorn pressed him back down.  "Wait a second for your head to stop spinning."

Faramir turned his helpless eyes to Legolas.  "Go to her," he pleaded, "protect her from that man when I cannot.  I know you love her, this is now the time to prove it!"

Legolas nodded numbly and fled from the kitchen towards Éowyn and whatever he might find at the Steward of Gondor's house.

**(*ahem* well see ya next chapter and since school gets out this Friday hopefully it will be sooner in coming….)**


	11. Face of the Monster

**Author's note: seems like I'm always apologizing for being late…well, hopefully updates will come more promptly now that school is over and I think I got through my writer's block.  Thanx to all of you for being such faithful readers and reviewers.  I love all of you!!!**

**Disclaimer: my plans for world domination are in the making…but since they have not happened yet—I own nothing.**

**                                                                                          Face of the Monster**

**                                                                                                    By eck**

Éowyn bent and planted a kiss on the brow of her small baby and gently smoothed back the feathery brown hair from the smooth brow.  "Sleep in peace, little one."

"Mama?"

She dropped her gaze down to view her daughter.

"Why does that pretty elf make you cry all the time, he didn't seem so mean to me."  Lina gazed up at her with all the deep wisdom of a child. One hand came up to play with Éowyn's long blonde hair.

Sighing, Éowyn bent down and scooped the child into her lap. "He's not mean, Lina.  In fact, he is one of the kindest people I know."  She glanced back at her son.  "Come let us go to the kitchen and talk.  Claron needs his rest."

Lina nodded and tucked her small hand into her mother's, following her down the kitchen; while Éowyn tried to figure out how to explain such a complicated manner to a two year old.

At the kitchen, Éowyn fixed both of them a small glass of milk.  "I met Legolas during the War of the Ring.  Do you remember Papa telling you about that?"

Wide eyes looked back at her.  "You were there with Papa during all of that?"

Éowyn laughed.  "No, in fact, I met your papa about eight months after I met Legolas.  See, he was from Gondor and I was from Rohan and even though we were allies we didn't have much dealings with each other because…" she glanced at her daughter's lost expression.  "Never mind.  I met Legolas at Rohan when he and King Aragorn arrived to talk with the king of Rohan."

"Uncle Eomer?"

"No, the king then was Theoden, my uncle.  Legolas and I became…" she hesitated.  "Very good friends.  He left soon after Helm's Deep to travel Middle Earth.  I was sad because I missed him so much."

Lina nodded.  She could understand missing someone, every time her father went away on trips she cried.  "So why do you cry now that he is back?"

Éowyn opened her mouth to respond to the question when one of the three guards that Faramir employed to protect the household came rushing in with an anxious look in his eye.  

"Mi'lady!  There is a fire in the house! You must get out quickly before it becomes bigger!"  He quickly scanned her as if looking for signs of the fire on her person.

She gasped and started to rise, hugging Lina close to her.  "What about Claron?"

"I sent his nurse to get him.  They will be coming shortly.  Now follow me!" the guard grabbed her wrist and dragged her from the kitchen.

Lina buried her face in her mother's neck.

"What about Abigal?"  Éowyn looked around frantically for the cook/housekeeper.

"She is out at the market.  Everyone is out of the house except you!"

Smoke was filling the hallway and Éowyn thought she could feel the heat from the flames on her skin.

"How did the fire start?"

"We're not sure."

Then they were outside.  True to the guards word, the few servants were milling around outside the house, staring up at the flames.

"Lady Éowyn!"  Abigal called running to her lady's side.  "Are you alright? I feared when I saw the house burning!"

"I am fine. Could you please take Lina?"

"Surely!"  The matronly woman took the scared girl and cuddled her in her own arms, cooing comforting words.

Éowyn quickly surveyed the scene.  "Has anyone sent for help?"

The guard that had dragged her out stepped forward.  "I sent Ehud to the castle. Lord Faramir was supposed to be there."

Éowyn nodded as she mentally counted the servants making sure that none had been left in the now blazing house.  Then alarm gripped her.  "Where are Claron and Gluba?"  panic laced her voice.

There was silence.

Finally a brave soul spoke up.  "They must be still in there."

Éowyn went white.  "I have to go in there."  And before anyone could stop her, she went running into the house.

Coughing against the smoke, she ran up the steps leading to Claron's nursery.  By the time she had reached the second story, her lungs were clamoring for oxygen that wouldn't come and the air had grown oppressively hot.

"Claron!" she screamed through the smoke and then broke down into a fit of coughing.  "Where are you?"

"So you are the elusive Shieldmaiden."

At the cruel voice, Éowyn jerked to full attention, her hand going to the dagger she always kept at her side.  "Who are you?" she gasped, trying to see through the thick smoke and the darkness.

The figure stepped closer.  "I think you know.  I am the one who has been haunting Legolas' steps all these years.  I am the one who drove him finally home to you. I am the one who started this fire."

Éowyn stood taller.  "Are you here to kill me?" she finally whispered.

The man laughed.  "No, I am here to kill some very dear to you."

Her eyes widened and she looked over the man's shoulder towards the nursery door.  "Claron."

"Ah, yes, that was his name."

Éowyn didn't miss the past tense that the man used referring to her son. "You wouldn't be that cruel."

His mocking smile was her only answer.

"You won't get away with this.  I have guards that will be come behind me any moment.  You may be able to kill a defenseless woman and a babe but not armed soldiers," Éowyn lifted her chin in defiance.

Another laugh.  "Defenseless? Éowyn, Éowyn, I know by now that you are no weakling, even when your only weapon may be a dagger.  And the guards?  There are men posted downstairs with orders to kill everyone who enters, except you.  You see? We are alone."

Éowyn backed up a step, trying to find away to get around the man and into the nursery.  "Why are you doing this?"

"To hurt Legolas.  Quite simple really." He glanced at the thickening smoke.  "But I'm afraid I really must end this charade now.  A pity.  I wish a I had more time to play with you, I can see why Legolas' was so taken with you." He gave her body an approving glance.

She hissed slightly and spat in his direction. "Snake."

Then he lunged and it was all she could do to bring her dagger up and block the much larger sword from relieving her shoulders of her head.

He sidestepped and spun back around, swing the sword gracefully towards her middle.

The force of the blow knocked the dagger from her hands and sent it spinning across the room.  She gasped in surprise and fear.

He advanced on her with a lecherous grin.  "No so brave now, Shieldmaiden?"  Then he swung the sword towards her heart.

She ducked to the side but not fast enough.  The sword bit deeply across right side and through her arm.  Pain swamped her senses as she staggered to stay on feet that no longer wanted to support her.

The man lunged again and she barely managed to dodge it.

She gasped deeply through the pain but only managed to inhale more noxious smoke.

A wail cut through the air.

Éowyn's head jerked up in the direction of Claron, her eyes leaving her adversary and going to the nursery door.

The distraction was all the big man needed.  With a smooth blow, he cut through her stomach with a vicious slash.  Then with a wrench he pulled it back out.

She sunk slowly to the floor in a puddle of her own blood, staring at him with huge, uncomprehending eyes.  "Monster," she managed to gasp, her voice full of hatred, before collapsing fully.

He laughed and prepared to finish her off when he heard footsteps on the stairs.  Swearing softly, he ran to a window nearby and slipped from the burning house and disappeared in the confusion surround the fire.

**((ooo…it's another cliffhanger.  I'm going good! Hehe…there's probably gonna be two or three more chapters after this one plus an epilogue…so hang tight!))**


	12. Fire and Blood

**Author's note: well…enjoy  Thanx to all of you for being such faithful readers and reviewers.  I love all of you!!!**

**Disclaimer: my plans for world domination are in the making…but since they have not happened yet—I own nothing.**

**                                                                                               Fire and Blood**

**                                                                                                    By eck**

Legolas ran through the streets of Gondor as if he was chased by some fearsome being; and in many ways, indeed he was.  He was being chased by the ghost of a memory and the fear of the unknown. His legs and arms pumping in a syncopated rhythm that had long since become a second nature to him. Elbow to waist to directly behind shoulder to waist to level with his chest and then back.  His feet pounded in time with his arms; heel to toe, heel to toe.  Every muscle in his body was working to give him as much speed as was possible considering the abilities of the lean elvish body he inhabited.

Keeping his mind on the rhythm of his movements took his mind off unpleasant thoughts.  Like what that monster might have done to Éowyn in the few hours he had been away from her.  Like what he would find once he reached the house of the Steward of Gondor.  Like what he would do if she had been harmed anyway.

In the corners of his vision he saw the Gondorian men and women watching him quizzically as they tended to their food and trinket carts that lined the busy roadway.  Now and then a child would scamper across his path only to be pulled back by an anxious mother and father.

As he rounded the side streets and approached the street that housed the Steward of Gondor, he chanced a look up at the soft blue sky.  White puffy clouds were spread liberally across but his eyes were immediately drawn to the single column of billowing dark fire smoke extending into the sky like a crooked dagger.

Fear threatened to choke him for a moment. He all too well remembered the last fire that had taken someone he had loved.  His breath came in faster than it should have considering the rate he was exerting himself. 

Forcing his mind off that dreadful fire long ago, he doubled his speed as he raced around the last corner and skidded to a halt in front of the two story house.  When he saw the blazing inferno the house had become, the cry was dragged unhindered from his lips.  "Éowyn!"

The few servants and guards out front barely looked up at his call.  They were trying desperately to stem the furnace by pouring buckets of water, which they drew from a well a few yards away, and dropping them one by one onto the fires.

Immediately, Legolas saw it was no use.  The bucketfuls on the fire had the effect of a raindrop on the bonfire the house had become.

Why had Éowyn not answered his call?

He scanned the gathered servants for her blonde hair and fair face.  "Where is Éowyn?" he called again, not really expecting an answer, but it made him feel better to say it all the same.

There was a pause of silence as the servants waited for the next one to answer the desperate elf standing before them.

Finally, Dezrick, one of the older servants stepped forehead.  "Claron and his nurse were left in the house. She went after them."

His feet began to move out of their own volition towards the house even as his mind screamed of burning memories of flame and fire that had almost swallowed him alive.  He did not heed their cries of warning as he ran to the dark door and stepped inside.

The moment he was fully engulfed by the smoke filled room, he knew he was being watched.  Dropping low to avoid being seen and breathe fresher air, he scanned the nearby proximity but the smoke was too dense to see much past a few feet away from his face.

Then an arrow whizzed by a few inches from his head and he instinctively rolled to draw his two knives.  Still crouching, he moved steadily in the direction from whence the arrow had come.

The slight twang of a bow string above the roar of the flames alerted him to the beginning flight of another arrow.

Dodging the arrow, he lunged in the approximate direction the source of the arrow and came face to face with a sneering man just getting ready to send another arrow on his path.

At the appearace of the elf, the man attempted to pull up and shoot Legolas directly in the heart.

Legolas threw one of his knives and sliced the man's hand off rendering him incapable of shooting the bow.

The man's cry of pain echoed in the fiery walls.  Stumbling desperately for his knife, he had no defense when Legolas came up and quietly slit his throat in one clean swipe.

Jumping back at the gush of blood from the mortal wound, Legolas whipped his head, sending his blonde hair flying, around at the sound of a clatter and the wail of a baby coming from the upstairs hallway.  He spun away from the dying man and charged up the stairs calling Éowyn's name as he went.  As he passed the top of the stairs, his eyes took in the scene at once.

Éowyn was on the floor with one hand clutching her heavily bleeding stomach and with the other hand trying to drag herself along the ornate carpet towards the source of the baby's wails.

In two quick strides he was by her.  "Éowyn," he said softly gently lifting her.  "Are you hurt?"

She stared at him with unblinking eyes that were rimmed in red.  "That's a stupid question," she finally said but her voice was mere above a whimper.  "Get Claron. I don't know what that monster did to him."

He glanced down at the bleeding wound she had been clutching.

The knife had cut her deep, delving past the tight muscle to slice into and lay bear the vital organs beneath.  Hot, crimson blood drained from the wound at an alarming pace and a strange grayish substance seemed to linger on the skin around the wound.

_Poison_, the still functioning part of Legolas' brain told him.  _Mortal wound_, it screamed traitorously at him.  _No! _the unlogical part of him shouted.  _She'll live, she has too! Don't let her die, you fool!_

The baby let out another lusty wail and Legolas nodded in assent to her desperate wish.

"Don't leave me, Éowyn," he pleaded, climbing to his feet.  "I shall be right back."

Nodding weakly, she watched him with glazed eyes as he trotted towards the open door of the nursery.

Miraculously, the nursery had escaped the worse of the fire and smoke; only a few tendrils wisped through the air.   Claron's crib sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by white billows of lace.

Claron, himself, seemed unharmed.  His tiny, red face was squished up in the beginnings of another wail as Legolas bent over the cradle.  When he saw the blonde creature above him, one fist waved in the air as if to fend off the intruder that was not his mother.

"Sh," Legolas murmured softly as he spoke quietly in Elvish.  "Your mother is near, pen-neth, she will be with you soon."  Scooping the baby up, he fled from the room and back to Éowyn.

"Did you get him?" she called weakly.

"He's fine, Éowyn. Just fine."

She nodded silently.  "All is well than," she murmured.  "All is well…"

Legolas hugged the baby tighter as he bent over the still woman.  "Éowyn? Stay awake, Éowyn, your baby still needs you."

She opened her eyes.  "Claron," she whispered to the now contented baby.  "Claron…" and then her eyes closed again.

For a moment all was silence except for the flames and then the keening Elvish wail of grief rose up above it all.

TBC….

**Sorry it's soooo short but see I'm leaving tomorrow morning for camp and I'm gonna be gone for a week so I wanted to get this up for all you friendly folk.  So don't kill me or hate and I promise I'll update as soon as I get back from camp.  **

**ON A SIDE NOTE: I'm thinking about doing a story that sort of fills in Legolas' years away from Gondor, let me know what you all think. **

**TA-TA! O wait, yes, REVIEW!!**


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